Life, Death, and the ReBirth of Hope
by Areie
Summary: Immeasurable years after Revolutions, Neo and Smith are still present in the Matrix. One special day among countless others involves a cause for hope and two young girls. R


_This story came to me after reading The Chosen Shadow's SeeYou Soon. If you haven't read the aforementioned, and if you like this, go read it now!_

_Disclaimer: I do not own Neo, Trinity, Smith, the World, etc etc etc. Anything original I do own. So don't sue me - anyway I am only 13 and have £40 to call my own so how much will you get off me?..._

_Read, enjoy, review and be warned: flamers will be left to the mercy (or lack thereof) of the Demon Ponies._

* * *

A man, walks through the crowded city streets. He's tallish, pale, and his hair's a black mess. He looks pretty ordinary in his black coat and boots, until you see his deep, amazing brown eyes. Every now and then he pauses and stops someone on the street, usually a kid, and says something. Then he lets them go.

"Hey, girl, keep dreaming."

Daisy stares after the man in the black coat with her mouth open. She'd never seen him before in her life, but somehow he knew how she daydreamed all day about the world being an illusion. How she got teased at school about it, how she was starting to think her daydreams are what set her apart from everyone at school. "Hey! Wait!" she calls, and tries to run after him, but it's too late. The man is gone.

"Lee, don't give up, okay?"

For a moment, Lee can't move. He stares at the bag he's dropped at his feet, then looks back at the man with the intense eyes. "What the hell..." How can a stranger know every day makes him feel worse and worse? How can a stranger know about all the pills in his bag? He stands there, shaking like a leaf. When he looks up, the man has vanished.

"You're not alone, I promise, Sian."

Sian looks at the picture in her wallet. It's of her twin brother, Connor. That was three months ago, before the car accident. Before her heart broke and her brother died. And the weird man who stopped her on the street is the only person who ever offered her comfort. She bows her head, and a tear falls on the picture. "Thank you," she whispers, but the man has disappeared into the crowd.

A girl in a cafe. A man at a bus stop. A boy feeding pigeons in the park.

The man walks on, smiling a secret smile to himself.

"Don't worry, Harriet." "She'll forgive you if you tell her." "It'll all come right in the end."

They look up, they gape, and the man walks on, and is gone forever, swallowed up by the city crowds.

A breeze ruffles his hair, and he flattens it out. He looks up at the sun with a smile, and says, "I'm doing it. I'm doing what I said I would." His eyes are full of pure shining love. "I'll find you, I know I will."

Suddenly, his head snaps round. He looks at his watch and grins, then sets off at a loping run to the subway station.

* * *

A little red-haired boy is waiting for the subway train. He's twelve, but small and skinny, wearing a denim jacket and filthy jeans. A bag hangs off one bony shoulder, and he's all alone. Suddenly there's a tap on his free shoulder. The boy whirls around, and finds himself staring into large dark eyes.

"Hello, David." David's eyes bug, and he tries to squirm away, but the man in the black coat holds onto him.

"Who are you? Some sort of cop?"

The man grins. "No, I'm not a cop." He looks at the bag David's carrying. "Do you really want to catch this train, David? I wouldn't if I were you."

"What the hell?" The boy pulls away again, his face pale. "Who _are _you?"

This time, the man drops onto one knee, staring directly into David's eyes. "I'm the One." He holds David's gaze, and speaks sincerely. "Don't get on this train, David. Go back home. Everything will be all right, I swear. Go home. Your mother loves you." Then he lets go of the stunned boy, sweeping towards the exit. For a moment, he pauses. "Good luck, Choi," he calls, and runs up the steps and back into the daylight, out of the boy's life forever.

Just as he leaves, the train whips into the station.

How does the man know? Simple. He's the One.

* * *

He stops outside a derelict building. The sign reads, "Heart O' The City Hotel". After a moment, another man steps outside, this one bulkier, with clear blue eyes, neat brown hair and a suit.

"Hey, Smith," the man with the messy hair calls.

"Neo." The other - Smith - says in a stern monotone. They face each other stoically, then after a moment, both smile. "I suppose you have been continuing with your, ah, mission?" Smith says, with a slightly amused note to his voice.

"Yeah. I'll find her, Smith. One of these days I'll find her. I know I will." Neo's voice is wistful, as if resigned to hope, and never fulfilling that hope. But still hoping.

Smith sighs, starts to say something, but catches himself. "Have you got the list? Did you even remember to _make_ the list? Not all of us are psychic, you know." Neo hits him in the shoulder.

"Come on, Smith. When have I ever forgotten?" The other man smirks and raises an eyebrow. "Don't answer that question, actually. Here it is. One list for you coming right up." Neo reaches into a pocket, and pulls out a piece of dog-eared paper with a list of names, locations and times. "Be there, then, and they'll be there."

"Are you sure?" Smith eyes the paper dubiously. "If I can even read your writing…"

Neo laughs. "You said it yourself. I'm psychic. Now can I have the bag?"

Smith holds out a black bag, but doesn't give it to Neo. He grins infuriatingly. "What do you say?"

"Can I have the bag now _pleeeease _Smithie?" Smith laughs at his friend and gives him the bag, which immediately vanishes into a pocket of Neo's trench coat.

"Are we going to go now?" Smith asks with exaggerated patience. Neo grins, and flicks two fingers away from his temple in a mocking salute, winks once, and takes off at a loping run, leaving the other man behind. Smith looks down at the crumpled paper in his hand, and reads aloud, "Andrew Bird, the Crypt fashion store, 11.32. Skinny boy with blond hair." He turns around, and sets off, then pauses. He looks at the alley where Neo disappeared moments ago, and murmurs, "Good luck, Neo." Then he, too, takes off at a run, though his is considerably smoother than his friend's. This time he doesn't look back.

* * *

Neo and Smith. The One and the Virus. Once they fought each other to the death for the very survival of the world-the survival of _both _worlds. And both died there, bringing peace as they left the world.

That was a long time ago.

Since then, they had put their enmity aside, and worked together-and together they were all but unstoppable.

For the two who were really one, came back, reincarnated just as the once mortal – and once a Chosen One – Seraph was. They came back immortal and eternal, far in the future, with one task, given to them by the Oracle. To guide the children of the Matrix on their road to being unplugged, and to do so anonymously. They made as many as possible believe in the unbelievable, by simple cryptic comments on the street.

But Neo gave himself another mission: to give comfort anonymously to those who needed it, as he had needed it and never received it. And to find those he once knew, whom he felt had been reincarnated, but as mortals again, with another chance of life without the war. He was going to find a way to be in their lives a second time.

* * *

Dusk is falling. Neo is sitting in an old bus, reading the graffiti on the window, waiting for the last passenger to get off. He doesn't know why he is on this bus exactly, except that he felt he had to get on it. And that there is a girl asleep on the backseat. An oddly familiar girl. And there is a _something_ in the bag Smith had given him, which he could have sworn hadn't been there earlier. An oddly familiar _something_. If he is right about why the girl and the _something_ were familiar, well…

Finally, the bus stops, and the lady with the bad permanent gets off. Slowly, Neo gets up and approaches the sleeping girl. She's pale, with thick, straight dark hair, and dark eyelashes. Her face is oval and beautiful. She is dressed in a black T-shirt, black combats, a black sleeveless jacket, and greyish-black boots. She looks about thirteen.

_Oh God. I think I'm right_.

Neo puts a hand on her shoulder and gently shakes the girl. "Wake up, Kathleen," he murmurs. He knows her name as he knows so much he has never been told – by the gift of his intuition.

Her eyes flutter open, revealing blue orbs like sapphires. Neo's throat catches. She is so beautiful, so familiar. For a moment, she just gazes peacefully at him. Then she pulls back, alarmed at finding herself being held by a strange man. Her hand reaches back, and she pulls out a knife, warning him away. She looks as if she'll use it, as well. Neo smiles, putting his hand in front of the blade. "I'm not gonna hurt you, and if I was, that wouldn't be much use against me," he says, vaguely amused.

Warily, the girl – Kathleen – puts her knife back in her belt. "Who – who _are _you?" she whispers. Neo can feel her trembling. He smiles slightly, reassuringly.

"I'm a friend," he says gently. "You don't remember me, do you?" Neo looks at her sadly, and Kathleen almost gasps. His eyes are pools of infinite love and sadness, and a strange sort of gratitude, all directed towards her. How could she mean this much to someone she doesn't even know. Or does she?

"No – I mean I – yes – I'm not – I don't know," Kathleen stutters. Neo's heart leaps.

_I'm right I'm right I'm right I'm actually _right

"That's more than I could have hoped for," he murmurs with a smile. He touches her cheek, and for once Kathleen doesn't flinch at contact between her and someone else. She just lets him be. This feels _right, _and somehow familiar.

She gulps and asks again, "Who are you?"

Neo closes his eyes briefly, then says, "My name…is Tom. That will do for now." It's a name, and though his heart breaks that she won't know him as Neo, he feels it's safer this way. He looks down and sees her arm where her sleeve has ridden up. The white skin is crisscrossed with crimson lines, cuts only recently scabbing over. He pulls her wrist towards himself, feeling faintly sick. He almost asks, "How did you _get _these?" then realizes exactly how Kathleen acquired the cuts.

"Don't do that to yourself," he whispers with a protective jolt.

_Why? Why does she want to hurt herself like that? Whywhywhywhy _why

The bus bumps, and they fall even closer, so that Neo is practically holding Kathleen. To her surprise she doesn't pull away, not even as he traces the lines across the inside of her arm. Then his black lashes sweep up, and those huge brown eyes look into hers, full of tears. "Please don't," he says, in a voice shaking with the effort of not crying. "Please, for me."

_Oh God. She's been hurting so bad, and I haven't been here. I _haven't been here _for her, when she needed me! She needed me and I wasn't there! Oh God. Oh God, just let me make it up to her._

_I wasn't there…_

Neo's head is spinning with mingled love and sadness and anger at himself. She had terrible self-inflicted cuts on that vulnerable part of her arm and she was so small and he hadn't been there to catch her in freefall. And it's obvious Kathleen's in freefall. She is alone on a bus, almost certainly running away, with those scabs on her wrists, carrying a knife, and paranoid.

_And I haven't been here. _

Kathleen can feel the tremors running through Neo's body, and she feels so ashamed of herself for not being able to cope, and making him feel as distraught as he looks. She drops her chin onto her chest and wills herself not to let him see her cry. Though why she should care about a total – or not so total - stranger escapes her.

Suddenly, on seeing her head drop down, Neo's mind clears. He looks at her, searches his instincts that have done so much for him, and reaches round with his free hand to the back pocket of her combats. Her head snaps up as he reaches in, and deftly pulls out a razor.

"I think I'll keep this," he says lightly, and it disappears into his trench coat. Kathleen gapes at him. "You're running away, aren't you?" he asks gently, while she's surprised enough to answer honestly.

"Yes, I – " Kathleen stops short, amazed at herself. Who _is _this man who makes her open up so completely? "Just…who are you? Who are you _really_? How do you know these things about me? Why do I feel…" She trails off. "Who are you?"

Neo smiles at her. He can't answer all these questions truthfully, so he ignores them. "Go home," he says softly. "It'll all be all right, I promise. Oh, and I think I've got something of yours here." He reaches into the bag Smith gave him, and pulls out the_ something _that's been bothering him all this bus ride.

A pair of sunglasses, perfectly dark ovals tilted up at each corner. They fit Kathleen's face perfectly, complementing it.

On seeing the sunglasses, Kathleen goes deathly pale. She reaches out and takes them from Neo with a shaky hand. "But I lost these…ages ago, I lost these…how?…" She stares in amazement. Undoubtedly these are hers: they have the same small scratch on the bridge, and the same small screw on the left lens slightly loose. They were special to her, her last memento from her best friend, who'd bought them. Except…

Except they'd got lost when her mom and her had moved in with her stepfather, three years ago. So how on earth…

Taking advantage of Kathleen's total bafflement, Neo leans in and kisses her cheek. "Go home, Kathleen. Everything will be alright. And just remember, I love you. I always will." He pulls back, and stands up. She stares at him, mouth slightly open.

"Will I ever see you again, Tom?" she whispers. He smiles.

"I'll find you. Wherever you are, I'll be there, " Neo promises. He takes a step down the aisle of the bus, then turns back and says, "Oh, and Kathleen…"

"What is it?"

"Call me…Neo."

Then he smiles, runs forward, and is gone, leaving Kathleen staring, stunned after him. "Neo," she whispers. "It can't be – can it?"

* * *

Neo's running through the dark of the swiftly falling night. He knows these alleys and rat runs like the back of his hand after all this immeasurable time. Years don't mean much to him anymore, lifetimes are not a measure of time for him but something he helps to preserve. He doesn't count how long he has been here since that fateful night in the rain and mud. Doubtless Smith knows, but Neo merely says he has been here a long time. He has followed his task for hundreds of mortal years.

He has saved five times that number of lives on this very bridge.

It is a long way up, above the river. The railing would stop a car but poses no problem to an individual who tries to climb over. It's designers never thought of that – surely no one would be that stupid.

Grimly, Neo thinks, _no one is that stupid. That desperate, though…_

Through the gloom he sees a boy with long dark dreadlocks flying in the freezing wind. The boy is crouching on the narrow rail, black clothes and hair and dark skin blending into the gloom. Neo can see what no mortal could be able to. The boy's knuckles are white from gripping the rail and there is real desperation in his night-dark eyes. As Neo rushes at full pelt down the bridge, the boy stands.

He straightens up, stretches his arms out to either side and tilts his head back. With his black dreads billowing out behind him, he looks like an angel shrouded in the night but this angel cannot survive the sixty-foot drop into a powerful river. A fact he well knows and is counting on, for this angel doesn't want to survive his first flight.

It is lucky for him that the far more real angel rushing towards him has survived falls of many times of that off this bridge.

Neo reaches the boy on the bridge just as he starts tilting forward, and grabs him round the waist, his own momentum pulling them both down, but down onto the bridge not the river. Neo lands half on his side, half on his back, holding the boy close to him protectively. The boy in his arms is shaking uncontrollably and almost hyperventilating. He's also freezing cold and Neo wonders if he will actually remember this incident as reality or a dream.

Pressing one hand against the boy's heaving chest, Neo concentrates on radiating warmth and comfort into his companion. Slowly the teenager's breathing calms, and he sits up.

"Don't give up, don't ever give up," Neo whispers in his ear. "I might not be able to be here again."

He runs off again into the dark of night, leaving one baffled suicide safely rescued, and hearing the sobs of a little girl ringing in his head.

_Where are you, little one? I'm coming…_

* * *

Neo's instincts lead him to a bad area of the city, a dangerous estate. There is a playground, but it's not a place for children. The swings and play equipment are smashed up and graffiti covered, and tainted needles adorn the floor. A tiny girl with hair the colour of milky coffee sits sobbing on the broken roundabout. His heart wrenches seeing someone so young like this.

_She reminds me of me._

_I wonder if her dad is anything like mine._

Almost without conscious thought, he sits down beside her and holds her to him in the folds of his trench coat, protecting her, comforting her, warming her. She wraps her small arms round him and turned tear-stained round face to him. It shines with trust and hope.

"Hello Neo," she whispers with a smile, and closes her eyes, placing her head against his chest. It starts to rain.

Neo holds her, wondering, wondering, as she whispers and sobs and cries her secrets. She falls asleep, and he wraps the sides of his coat over her.

_Why doesn't her family _care

He holds her through the rain and the starless night and the rise of the yellowish half-moon. He holds her, tireless, the greatest protector of the greatest potential since his mortal life. Finally the grey light of dawn pierces the night, and the child yawns and stirs.

As she shifts, waking, Neo lets go of her, letting her name flow into his mind. Hope.

Hope looks up at Neo, and says innocently, "Thank you."

He helps her down off the roundabout. "Be safe, Hope." He ruffles her hair, and looks at the sky. Trinity saw it, saw the real sky, oh so long ago, he thinks. And it was beautiful. I found Trinity after so very long without her. And she is as beautiful as ever.

_I have Trinity to know and love again. I have Hope to protect and teach. I am dead, Trinity is dead, but nothing ever really dies. _

He laughs for the sheer joy of it.

_This is truly what I was born to do. And, yeah, what Smith was made to do. _

Giddy with the joy of finding his love, his successor, making peace with Smith, and doing what he was meant to do – help those who need it most – Neo turns his face to the sky with a secret smile.

He flies up, away, into the clouds. It's a beautiful world.

Hope waves as Neo departs. "Fly free, Neo." She dimples. "Come back and teach _me _to fly, soon."

* * *

_Dedication: for Keanu and Hugh, Hayleigh and Anna my angel. Also for Sarah, and Linda who beta-ed this. As ever and always for Lilith and Susie my muse and inspiration to all I do._

_Areie_


End file.
